Faebies
by RhysandDarling
Summary: Feyre Archeron, High Lady of the Night Court, is playing spy in the home of her former lover. Just recently, she and Rhysand had accepted their mating bond in a cabin located high in the mountains, which resulted in hours of mind-blowing sex. But what if it also resulted in something else... Like a baby? (Loosely based off the plot of ACOWAR but not really)
1. Chapter 1

_**Feyre**_

I thought I was merely struggling to digest the food at the Spring Court when I started vomiting my guts up every morning. That was the lie that everyone believed, including myself for a while. But that month, I didn't bleed. And I knew that I was about to have a _very_ big problem, or a small one for that matter-a small problem in the form of a baby (a FAEby).

I realized it as I was laying awake in bed one night, staring up at the ceiling, imagining I could see the stars through it. I was honestly contemplating the possibility that my food had been poisoned, but shoved the nonsensical thought away. And when it finally dawned on me, I had to refrain from slapping myself in the face for not figuring it out sooner.

For not realizing that I was pregnant with Rhys's child. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Fae children were rare, and the fact that I had conceived one so quickly was next to impossible.

Panic started creeping in, threatening to consume my thoughts, but I did not succumb. I couldn't give in to fear, not now. Not when there was a war to be fought and a court to bring down. _Especially_ not when there was a child to protect.

But even as I fought against that fear, questions poked at the edge of my mind. How was I to carry a child, be so vulnerable, at a time like this? Would I be able to protect the baby from the horrors of war? _How would Rhys react to it?_

He had told me once that it would be an honor to have a child with me. But he had also said that he would prefer a child without a war raging around us. Yet here I was-pregnant in an enemy court.

Rhys must have felt my anxiousness and fear down the bond, because I felt him send a comforting rush of love along with a question. _Is everything alright?_

I chewed my lip and sent what I hoped felt like reassurance. I hesitated, then said, _Everything's fine. Don't worry. I love you._ I wondered if he could feel the bitter lie. Wondered if he felt the life of his son or daughter thrumming through me.

But his only response was, _I love you too. More than the stars and the moon._

I couldn't tell him about the child, not yet. I was his spy, the only one in the Spring Court and possibly the only leverage we had over the King of Hybern. If Rhys found out that I was pregnant, he would extract me from the court without hesitation. There was no way he'd risk his child or Tamlin's wrath once he found out I was carrying the spawn of his sworn enemy. And it made me feel guilty, lying to my mate, to the one person I trusted with everything… But it was for the best. Or, at least, I told myself it was.

Tentatively, I placed a shaking hand on my stomach. It felt no different than before, but I knew. I knew that the life of a child was relying solely on me. I swore I could feel its heart thumping, its fragile body taking form. Was all of this worth it? Would it be justified for me to risk not only my life but the child's life too? I knew that we needed information from Tamlin if we wanted to better our chances of winning this war, and I was our best bet. But I didn't know if endangering my baby was worth it.

A dark, cruel part of me whispered that there was always the option of getting rid of it. I immediately staunched the idea. Rhys would never forgive me for doing that. I didn't think I would ever forgive myself.

I released a shuddering sigh into the deep black, wondering if Azriel's shadows had finally managed to breach the Spring Court. For a heartbeat, I allowed myself to hope that he hadn't. Because I did not want anyone to see me there, sobbing, wondering what the hell I was going to do.

* * *

I didn't know how Tamlin hadn't scented it on me already.

Perhaps he just assumed it was remnants of Rhys, or he didn't recognize the smell, but I knew that it was only a matter of time before he pieced it together.

And two weeks after my unfortunate epiphany, I knew that time had run out.

Over the breakfast table, Lucien asked, "Are you still throwing up in the mornings?" An innocent question. Perhaps one inquired to initiate small talk. Maybe even because he was concerned for me.

I merely shrugged. "Occasionally." A lie. Every morning, without fail, I rushed to the bathroom to empty my stomach. I just prayed that he hadn't figured out why.

Tamlin, concern lining his brow, said, "Is it the food? Do I need to have a talk with the cook?"

Always concerned. Always protective. Once, it would have been an endearment. Now, I heard the violence under those words-not directed at me. But I heard the threat, the promise in them. If the cook had messed up the food, even in the smallest and most unintentional way, they would answer to Tamlin. And the results would not be pleasant.

I shook my head. "No, that won't be necessary." Then, I willed fear into my voice. Willed that vulnerable human girl I had once been to take form. Willed my tone to become small, quiet, _weak_. "It's just… the nightmares. They chase me until morning. I don't-I can't seem to deal with them."

Those words, those lies, washed away all traces of violence from Tamlin's face as he nodded. However, Lucien's face… his remaining eye held nothing short of blunt suspicion. He knew that I was not weak. He understood what Tamlin never could-that I wanted to fight. That I was strong, even in human skin. Perhaps that understanding led him to flare his nostrils in my direction. Whether it was to search for a whiff of that fear or something else, I don't know. But what he found certainly isn't what he was looking for.

"You smell… off," Lucien announced, slowly, cautiously. As if he didn't know what to make of it. My heart started beating a wild rhythm in my chest.

I had no idea if he recognized the smell for what it was, or if he merely smelled something different, but I soothed my face into a calm, confused mask, even as I felt the rising panic, the fear of discovery. If Tamlin found out I was carrying Rhys's child… I didn't want to think about the consequences.

"What do you mean?" Tamlin asked, the concern returning to his features.

"She smells…" Lucien trailed off, not knowing how to describe it. I hoped and prayed that he didn't recognize the scent of a childbearing woman. Pleaded that if he did, he'd keep his mouth shut about it. I made eye contact with him then, his metal eye whirring. And it was a small mercy when he said, "Can you think of anything that could be wrong with you, Feyre?" A mercy, because it gave me an opportunity to lie, to conjure up an excuse.

A gift wasted, because I could think of only one possible thing to say that would lead at least Tamlin away from further questions. And it was not a good one. But I willed a blush to my cheeks and averted my eyes, saying, "Well, there is one thing…"

Tamlin perked up at that. "What? What is it?" I felt his steady green gaze on me even as I kept mine on the empty plate in front on me.

Lucien was already eyeing me skeptically, no doubt smelling my bullshit from a mile away. He was always the smarter one of the two. "Yes, Feyre, what could it possibly be?" And from the way his steady, unflinching glare met mine, I knew that he already had a guess.

 _No going back now,_ I told myself as I blurted, "I have a yeast infection." Then internally face-palmed at the stupidity of it. I didn't think Fae could even get infections, let alone vaginal ones. But men were ignorant on feminine affairs-perhaps they'd be struck so dumb by the mere awkwardness of the statement that they'd drop the topic.

Silence. Complete silence as neither male knew what to say. Then, a snort from Lucien, his eyes once again meeting mine as if to say, _Really? That's the best you've got?_

Tamlin just leaned over and whispered to his friend, "What's a yeast infection?" And of course, Lucien let out a howl of laughter at the question, relishing in his friend's ignorance of female dilemmas.

I glared at him, the blush on my cheeks no longer a struggle to invoke. Lucien ignored me, saying to the Tool, "Oh, it's glorious really. It's usually caused by females wiping the wrong way and sweeping shit into their vaginal openings."

Now it was Tamlin's turn to blush. Then he whispered back, as if I weren't right in front of them, "Uh, what are we supposed to do about it? I mean… Should we put ice on it or something?"

This earned a stronger, more violent howl from Lucien, tears lining the corners of his eyes. He put a hand on Tamlin's shoulder. "No, my friend. Why don't you just leave Feyre to handle this one?" And it seemed that Tamlin was too embarrassed to think of an adequate response, so he just nodded blankly, crimson still coating his cheeks.

Just when I thought I was in the clear, Lucien met my eyes. Something flashed in them-a warning, and a promise. And I knew then that perhaps I had evaded Tamlin's prying, but not Lucien's. Not when my mate had Lucien's own. Not when I could lead him right to my sister, his soul-bonded partner.

So I braced myself for the interrogation that was to come.

 _Later_ , I told myself. _Later_.

* * *

Later turned out to be 2 hours after sunset, when I heard a knock on my bedroom door-strong, impatient, unyielding.

I sighed deeply, wondering if faking sleep would be a viable option. That is, until I heard Lucien growl from the other side of the door, "I know you're awake, Feyre." And without further prelude, he burst into the room.

"Don't you know that it's rude to barge into a lady's chambers without her permission?" I drawled to him, sitting on the edge of my bed and picking my fingernails.

He ignored the comment, baldly stating, "You're pregnant." _Shit_.

I met his stare coolly, not letting a drop of emotion creep its way onto my face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me," Lucien hissed, baring his teeth. "I can scent it on you. It's faint, but I know it's there. Not to mention that morning sickness is a clear sign of pregnancy. You should count yourself lucky that Tamlin hasn't noticed or recognized it, otherwise you'd be knee-deep in shit." No hesitation in his voice, no doubt whatsoever-only absolute certainty. He knew my secret. The only thing I could do now was work around it the best I could.

Even as I calculated my next move, I still felt that cold, mind-numbing fear. If he decided to inform Tamlin, I had no doubt that he'd find a way to either kill the child or kill Rhys for impregnating me. Perhaps both.

I stood from my spot on the bed and took a step closer to him. "Please, do not tell him," I said lowly, pleadingly. "You know what he'll do. You know how he'll react. And I can't-" I took a shuddering breath that wasn't entirely faked. "I can't handle any more violence right now. I can't bear any more pain, or suffering." There, the voice of the girl I used to be. The voice that trembled so easily, that knew fear and lived in it.

Lucien's eye softened, but only slightly. "Where is my mate."

I had expected the question to come and gave the same answer that I always did. "I don't know."

He released a feral growl, one far from humane. "Yes, you do. You were in that court for months. You know his moves, his dwelling places. Where would he be keeping her?"

"If I knew, don't you think I'd have gone after her by now?" I snapped at him. "She may be your mate, but she is also _my_ _sister_. I would lay down my life for her. But I don't know where she is."

"Liar," he snarled, advancing towards me. There was a wild gleam in his eye, a franticness that could only result from a male separated from his mate. " _Tell me_."

I bristled at his tone, at the male authority and dominance coating it. As if he had the right to control me. "What makes you so sure that I know where Elain is?" I asked quietly, dangerously.

"This eye," Lucien said, pointing to the metal sphere in his skull, "can see through glamours, spells, anything. And I know, Feyre, that you have been trying to hide that tattoo on your right hand since you got here." Involuntarily, I slipped that hand behind my back, as if it would cause him to unsee it. But it was far too late. "I don't know if it represents another bargain or marriage or whatever else, but you are still tied to the High Lord of the Night Court. And he knows where my mate is. So you _will_ lead me to her. Or I will make sure Tamlin finds out that you have a child to protect." He turned toward the door, making to leave, but I grabbed his elbow in an iron grip, feeling the whisper of flames on my fingertips begging to be released.

"Listen to me, Lucien, and listen well," I hissed mere inches from his face. "You can threaten me, my freedom, my happiness, but you _will not_ bring my child into this, do you understand? There are many things I would gladly give up if it meant stopping Hybern, but not this. Never this. So once my business here is done, I will bring you to your mate. But not a whisper of this gets back to Tamlin-not my pregnancy, not my connection to Rhys, _nothing_. Is that clear, Lucien?"

He just stared at me, metal eye whirring, surprise lighting his face at my ferocity. I was found out, my cover blown, but perhaps I could make it work. Perhaps my mission wasn't completely forfeit if I could just get Lucien on my side. It was silent for a long time as he looked me over, considering. Finally, he swallowed. And nodded.

I blew out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Lucien warned. "The only reason Tamlin hasn't noticed your scent yet is because it's still coated with Rhys, and he'd rather not examine the aroma of his sworn enemy too closely. Perhaps he doesn't even know what a pregnant female smells like. But once he figures it out… I will not be able to stop him."

I didn't respond, averting my attention to the floorboards beneath us. I had to exact my revenge quickly, then. I would not be able to stay long.

"What do you think you're doing here, Feyre?" Lucien asked softly. "Destroying the entire court? There are innocent people in these lands. It doesn't seem like you to do something like that, especially for revenge."

I shook my head, meeting his stare once again. "My goal isn't just retribution, Lucien."

"Then, pray tell, what do you plan to achieve?" He crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows.

I did not flinch away from his skepticism, did not yield to his doubt. "I'm here for the people who look at the stars and wish; I'm here to make sure those dreams are answered."

* * *

 _I should leave_ , I told myself as I painted in the gardens three days later. I swirled the brush in a blob of cobalt, contemplating what the hell I was supposed to do next.

Lucien's knowledge of my pregnancy made my mission infinitely more dangerous than it was before, with a child at stake that I hadn't accounted for in the beginning. Any normal mother would have evacuated as soon as she figured out that she was pregnant.

But I was not normal, and my circumstances were far from average. The benefits almost definitely outweighed the costs. Just yesterday I had breezed into Tamlin's office-light and dainty and elegant-as he was seated at his desk full of scattered papers. Glancing over his shoulder, I saw pages and pages of information: weapons, armies, numbers, positions. All about Hybern. And of course, Tamlin paid me no mind. Why would he? As far as he knew, I was his loyal bride once again. As far as he knew, I was still illiterate and useless.

I was not that girl anymore. I was faster, smarter, stronger. I could protect my baby while simultaneously reeking havoc on my enemies. And I would see this to the end, child or no. Even if it tore me apart with worry. Even if Rhys throttles me for keeping something like this from him.

For I was a wolf of night and shadow disguised as a beautiful damsel of flowers and sunlight. And the Spring Court did not see me coming.

* * *

The next three weeks were a blur of spying and deception. Every so often I would creep into Tamlin's office pretending to want his company, when really I would sneak glances at the papers on his desk for more information on Hybern's movements. I would eavesdrop on Tamlin and the periodic messenger of the king, who came weekly to give requests (orders) and updates. And I was invited to the occasional meeting on planning where, when, and how Hybern would invade. On top of this, I was slowly sowing the seeds of distrust and hatred into his sentries, making it so they would never obey him again, let alone follow him into war.

Of course, there was also Lucien to contend with.

I knew he could hear me throwing up every morning, seeing that his room was right across the hall from mine. And whenever I exited to go down for breakfast, he was always leaning against the threshold of his own chambers, ready to give me a knowing look.

Meals were the true nightmares. It was the only time all three of us were ever together, and Lucien reveled in making it hell for me. He would drop subtle remarks throughout the conversation, things like, "How did you sleep last night, Feyre? I slept _like a baby_." Or even went so far as to say, "Are you gaining weight, Feyre?" with a pointed glance at my stomach for emphasis. I almost wanted to snarl at that, but Tamlin beat me to it.

I smirked at Lucien as he held his hands up in surrender, but he smirked right back. _Oh, it was so on_.

That next morning, just before the time I would usually throw up, I knocked on his bedroom door. When he opened it, looking confused and irritated, it took one look at my face to realize what I was going to do. He immediately tried to shut the door on me, but I was faster. I burst into the room, threw up all over his bed, and strutted out with a smug smile on my face. He didn't say a word to me during breakfast.

He never asked when my work here would be done, never asked about Elain again, and never tried to stop me. I found it strange that he was willing to betray his friend so easily, but at the same time, it didn't exactly come as a surprise. Lucien had always lived in fear of Tamlin-to call them true friends would have been a joke to people like Azriel and Cassian and Rhys, who knew true friendship with each other.

I still didn't trust him, of course. Not after everything that had happened. Not when there were such important things at stake. I was always on my toes, always ready to flee should even a whisper of my pregnancy or true intentions make its way back to Tamlin.

So our dance of deceit continued.

* * *

The fun and games did not last long.

Ianthe had disappeared from the court in the time that I had been there, but Tamlin told me during one of my trips to his office that she was coming to visit. To "make amends," she'd claimed.

And I knew that I was utterly screwed. Not because I feared her, or because she had any power over me. In any other circumstance, I would have snatched the opportunity to make her suffer.

But I was pregnant. She would no doubt scent it on me. And she would not hesitate to tell Tamlin.

She would be here within the next two weeks, Tamlin had told me.

I made quick work.

* * *

 **A/N: If you haven't read ACOWAR yet, you should not read this fanfic. I leave out the details of many events that occur in the book that pushes the plot forward because I'm assuming that everyone reading this has already read it. Not to mention MAJOR SPOILERS.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Rhysand**_

Something was wrong.

Well, many things were wrong at the moment. There was Cassian, whose wings were healing so, so slowly. But they were healing. There was Azriel, who was still bedridden due to the poisoned bolt he received to the chest. There were the two Archeron sisters isolating themselves in the House of Wind-one of them snarling at anyone who dared to come near, the other a shell of the person they used to be. And of course, there was the fact that Feyre, my mate, my High Lady, was in the hands of my enemy, and Hybern could come to take her far, far away from me and what if she _died and I couldn't save her-_

Yes. I had lots of shit to deal with. But something was _extra_ wrong. Feyre was… quiet on the other side of the bond. I could still feel her there, still feel that light and laughter and love, but there was a change-so small that I could barely detect it.

Feyre was strengthening her mental shields against me. Usually, she had a crack open for certain thoughts to flow past, even let them down occasionally, but now there was nothing. Her shields were so solid and impenetrable that not even I could get past them should I try. Almost as if-almost as if she were hiding something from me.

I was ripped from my thoughts as Cassian barged into the sitting room of the townhouse, plopped into the chair across from me, and groaned into his hands. I smirked, letting amusement light my features. "Let me guess. You spoke to Nesta."

He lifted his head enough to glare at me. "Prick."

I raised a brow. "Is it not true?"

"Not everything is about Nesta, you know. I could be frustrated that my damn wings are still so _weak_. I could be frustrated that my High Lady is currently in a territory that doesn't belong to the Night Court. Hell, I could even be pissed about Mor dragging me to Rita's _every night_."

"So it's Nesta," I said, nodding.

I tried not to laugh as Cassian leaned back in his chair and groaned once more. "Yeah. It's Nesta."

"What did you do to piss her off this time?" Because, as every male knows, we were _always_ to blame. Even if the female wasn't right, she was right.

He looked ready to rip something in half. " _I_ didn't do anything. _She's_ the one who refuses to train, to learn how to defend herself or wield whatever magic she has-even if it could protect Elain, the one thing she cares about, even if we're in the middle of a damn _war_ and the smallest inkling of training could save her."

I understood his anger. If Cassian wasn't there, if someone threatened or tried to harm Nesta… He'd failed to protect her once. He didn't want it to happen again. It reminded me of how I felt with Feyre at the beginning, before Cassian had started training her. I remembered the fear, the need to be assured that she could handle herself if I wasn't there. I felt that fear even now, especially as my mate was within Hybern's clutches.

Something on my face must have changed, because Cassian said quietly, "Shit. Are you okay? I mean, with Feyre-"

"I'm fine," I cut in quickly. The lie felt bitter on my tongue. I was driving myself mad with worry, with that constant question of _What if she doesn't come home?_

Cassian rolled his eyes. "Don't you know that after five hundred years, I can tell when you lie? That one wasn't even convincing. Obviously you're not okay, that was just an invitation to talk about your feelings, you stupid prick."

Despite the situation, I let myself laugh. "I didn't realize your methods of making me feel better would include calling me a stupid prick. Perhaps it would be better for me to sulk alone." Cassian remained silent, waiting. I sighed. "Okay, the truth is I'm halfway to the point of clawing my hair out from the insanity of knowing that my mate is in enemy territory, and I have considered pulling her out entirely multiple times. In addition to that, I have the strange feeling that she's trying to hide something from me, and I don't know why."

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Can't you just ask her what's going on? She's your mate. She wouldn't outright lie to you."

I shrugged. "I would like to hope she wouldn't. But if she did, she would have her reasons. As for asking her about it, using the bond to communicate too often puts it at risk for being detected. I don't think our friend Tamlin would be very happy to discover that Feyre darling was still bonded to me."

"I think it's worth the risk," Cassian said as he stood. "Especially since you're on the edge of a mental breakdown and have been brooding in here all day like a little Illyrian baby. If you think something's wrong, dig a little deeper." And with that, he strode out of the townhouse and into the dark night.

Leaning back in my armchair, I decided that his words held reason and asking was better than doing nothing. So I sent a loving caress down the bond, beckoning her to me.

It felt like an eternity before I felt her answering stir. _Tell me, my love,_ I said through that bridge between our minds. _Are you okay?_

I felt her playful annoyance. _Of course I'm fine, you busybody._

Despite the bite in her words, I smiled.

 _I need to ask you something. Why is it that your mental shields are so strong against me? I can't find a crack anywhere. Are you sure everything is alright?_

I felt her hesitate. I felt her choose her next words carefully. And that was all the confirmation I needed to know that something was indeed wrong. _It's nothing. I think I'm just paranoid._

I decided to let it go-for now. _Me too. Get some rest. I love you_.

A glimmer of affection down the bond. _I love you too_.

So she was definitely concealing something from me. And short of demanding answers that I was sure she would not give, there was nothing I could do. It could wait, I told myself. If it were truly important, she would let me know.

But that knowledge didn't stop me from worrying. Because I knew that Feyre and I were alike in the sense that we would sacrifice our entire selves to keep those we love safe. No matter how much I wanted to shelter her from it, I knew she would make sacrifices that I could not control.

I just hoped she didn't destroy herself in the process.

* * *

 _ **Feyre**_

As those two weeks were coming to a close, my plan fell perfectly in place.

Tamlin's sentries no longer harbored loyalty to their High Lord. His subjects knew me as their savior, a faerie blessed by the Cauldron, Feyre Cursebreaker. The servants of his household have witnessed his uncontrollable temper.

All that was left now was to flee. First, I'd plant a story of how Tamlin had exploded on me once again in the minds of his sentries, Lucien sweeping in to help. Then it would seem as if he came to my rescue and took me somewhere safe. No member of his court would be the wiser.

With me gone, his subjects will mourn the loss of their Cursebreaker, and blame none other than their High Lord. His soldiers, who have seen my mercy and forgiveness, will refuse to follow him. And the Spring Court will fall.

I did not dare tell Lucien of my plan to leave. Not until the very last moment. If he decided to disclose the information to Tamlin, he would catch me in the act, and I'd be stuck here. Pregnant.

We were on a trip to examine the wall for Hybern, trying to find the best place for their armies to invade the humans. I decided that I would leave then, while everyone slept-deep in the forest, in the dead of night.

Just as the fire was reaching its final dying embers, I strapped knives to my body and prepared to escape-to finally, after many long weeks, go _home_. I reached out to every person in the camp with my mind, planting my story. Then I headed for Lucien's tent, ready to drag him to the mate he was so desperate to see.

But he was not there.

I cursed the Cauldron at my luck and swept a cursory glance over the perimeter. Still no sign of Lucien. I debated if I should just leave without him. He could not affect me once I was back in the Night Court, so informing Tamlin of my pregnancy would be useless. And I did not have time to look for him.

So I grabbed my pack of food and extra clothing, double-checked that my knives were secure, and made my way out.

* * *

I was about 100 yards into the cover of the trees before I heard Lucien's voice.

"Back off."

A low female laugh froze the blood in my veins. _Ianthe_. "Stop with the games, Lucien," she purred. "I know you want me."

I should keep going. They were distracted with each other. They would not notice me. And I would have continued on, had I not heard twigs and leaves crack as Ianthe no doubt stepped closer to him.

I would have left Lucien to fend for himself had I not heard him growl, "Do _not_ touch me."

And then I was moving. Swift and silent, I prowled through the trees to the clearing where they stood.

What I saw thawed my blood and sent fire crackling through it instead-Lucien chained to a tree with matching bands of blue stone around his wrists, faelight bobbing next to his head. And Ianthe, eyeing him like a predator, was running her filthy hands along his chest, his stomach. I knew I had to step in, knew I couldn't just leave him there without breaking down from guilt. But first, I forged a wall of hard air around myself to mask the scent of my pregnancy from Ianthe.

Lucien saw me first, humiliation and shame coating his cheeks in red.

"That's enough," I commanded, my voice coming out with hatred and loathing. I left open a small hole in my shield so they could hear me. I prayed it didn't allow too much of my scent through.

Ianthe whirled to face me. I saw her note my pack and knives. Dismiss them. As if I wasn't a threat to her. As if I was still that weak girl she had known all those months ago.

She gave me a simpering smile. "Feyre, how nice it is to see you again. We'll talk later, okay? After I'm done playing with little Lucien. Run along, now." Ianthe turned away, resuming what she had been doing before, expecting me to bow to her will. Her arrogance, her belief that she was entitled to _violate_ someone like this, stewed a rage in me so hot it burned like the stars.

I struck. Not with weapons or steel or magic, but with my mind.

Only to be met with a mental shield so strong not even Rhys would be able to get past it.

Ianthe stilled, her hands pausing on their journey down his abdomen. She slowly turned to me once again with that awful smirk on her face that made me see red. "Oh, Feyre. You can't have expected me not to learn a thing or two from the King of Hybern. He taught me some tricks to help against your kind."

I didn't hesitate. I sent a spear of flame rushing straight for her head. She stepped aside with a laugh.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. The King gave me one more weapon in my arsenal that I'm sure you won't be happy about."

I only had time to take a breath before she pulled a knife from somewhere in her robes and lunged.

I dodged easily, but quickly realized she hadn't been aiming to stab me. That knife had been tipped in faebane, its purpose not to maim, but to destroy the shield I had placed around myself. The blade went clean through. Before I could summon back that hard wall of air, she blew a handful of the wretched substance right into my face.

And just like that, my power was out of reach, inaccessible, dormant. Even the bond had gone silent.

I stumbled back several steps and frantically swiped at my face, my eyes, my mouth, but the damage was done.

Two of my knives were unsheathed the moment she took a step towards me again. No, not towards me-to that pack I hadn't noticed I'd dropped.

I could do nothing as she picked it up, examined its contents, and laughed. "This is _delightful_. You were planning to run away, weren't you?" She came closer, her lips upturned in a wicked grin. I held my knives up in a defensive position. "The King will be thrilled to find out of your betrayal. He's been looking for an excuse to cause you pain since-" She cut off abruptly, pausing a mere four feet away. Her brows furrowed, and against all my pleading and praying to whatever god was out there, she sniffed in my direction.

My heart faltered. I decided then and there that the Cauldron or fate or whatever the hell decided the course of the universe officially hated me. Ianthe's smile somehow widened. "Oh, this is just getting better and better. You're carrying Rhysand's child, aren't you?" She clapped her hands in delight. "I can't wait to see his reaction when he finds out what happened to his darling pregnant mate."

Behind her, Lucien swore. I briefly took my eyes away from Ianthe to meet his. _Run,_ he seemed to say. Not a request-a plea. But I couldn't just leave him with this _bitch_.

However, the look I gave him cost me. Ianthe closed the distance between us and attacked.

Obviously she wasn't at all trained, and I evaded her strikes with little effort. I sprinted right past her, to the tree where Lucien was watching in horror, and unshackled him.

"Winnow us out," I hissed at him as I turned back to Ianthe, who prowled towards us looking smug.

But she wasn't the issue. Two soldiers, both bearing Hybern's seal, stepped into view in front of Lucien and me.

Along with none other than Tamlin.

"I can't," Lucien whispered in my ear, his breathing uneven. I could hear the fear in his voice. "She doused me with faebane as well. We're both powerless."

There was no way out. We were surrounded by enemies, capable of summoning no magic, with only a few knives to defend ourselves. Perhaps we would have stood a chance, had the High Lord of Spring not been present.

An idea struck me then. I still had faebane clinging to my hair, my clothes, dusting my face. If I could gather enough of it…

I did not give in to the fear clutching my heart, my mind. I only let in the anger, the need to make it home to my mate, the fierce protectiveness over that child in my womb. I would be fine as long as the plan worked. I shoved a knife into Lucien's hand and got ready for a fight. I would not let them take me. I refused to be locked up.

Ianthe backed away, discarding her weapon. "Took you all long enough," she drawled, waving her hand in our direction. "Arrest them. They're both traitors. I caught them in the act of escaping."

Rage boiled in my blood. She didn't even know that Lucien had been planning to leave with me-she had just said so because she could, because she knew they would believe her, because she wanted to punish him for not giving her what she wanted.

I was surprised that Lucien remained silent.

Tamlin looked at me, then Lucien, and back to me. Confusion warped his features. But when neither of us denied Ianthe's claim, a new emotion took over his face-anger.

"It gets better, too," Ianthe went on. She pointed an accusatory finger to me. "Feyre is pregnant with the High Lord of the Night Court's child. And she is still his mate. The bond was not broken at all, it seems." She smirked. "It's a shame he will never get to meet his future son or daughter."

I was going to tear her apart. Because Rhysand _would_ meet his child. As long as I drew breath, I would make it home to him. As long as that little heart beat inside of me, our child would make it home to him, too.

If I had thought Tamlin looked angry before, it was nothing compared to how he looked now. I could almost feel the white-hot rage rolling off of him in waves. " _What?"_ he growled, stepping closer to me.

Lucien shifted in front of my body.

Tamlin's green eyes burned into mine, an emotion so wild and feral in them that I almost flinched. Almost. But I tilted my chin up defiantly and said, "You sided with _Hybern_ of all people to get me back. You took me from my mate against my will and tried to force me to love you again. Did you really expect me to stay?"

As I spoke, I started dusting the faebane on my shirt into my cupped palm, the movement concealed by Lucien's body. Time-I needed more time.

"I _expect_ you," he snarled, already closing in, "to be grateful for what I sacrificed to bring you home. I saved you from the biggest monster in Prythian. But not completely, seeing as you're carrying his _spawn_." He spat the word, acting as if anything that came from Rhys was something to be hated-even a guiltless child.

I combed my fingers through my hair, pretending to push it out of my face, as I gathered more and more faebane. "If Rhysand is a monster, what does that make you? He told me what you did to his family. That you slaughtered his mother and sister, two completely innocent women." Tamlin flinched.

"Not to mention, he _saved_ me." I let my voice crack, then started vigorously wiping away nonexistent tears, hoping he didn't notice in the dim light. More faebane, more words to distract him. "That was something you had so completely failed to do. You were suffocating me in that house. And then you had the audacity to _lock me up inside it._ Even after everything, even after you knew what I went through Under the Mountain, you made me a prisoner in my own home. All because you were scared-because you had this vicious need to keep me safe. But Rhys protected me in a way that you hadn't even bothered to consider. He didn't make me rely on his strength. He taught me to have faith in my own by believing in it himself."

Tamlin just stared and stared and stared.

"Well," said Ianthe, rolling her eyes and looking bored. "Enough talking. Tamlin, grab them."

He paused in front of us, bristling at Ianthe's commanding tone. Perhaps even shying away from the decision. After all, the female he loved and his best friend stood in front of him having admitted their treachery to his court. The two most important people in his life faced a fate worse than death should he capture them. He knew the costs. He knew what it would mean-to us, and to him. And for a moment, I thought he would do nothing. But hate won over love, and he pounced, claws out.

I was ready. As Lucien prepared to defend, I reached over his shoulder and threw the small mound of faebane I had collected all over Tamlin the Tool's face.

Many things happened at once.

The two Hybern soldiers advanced, but Lucien was already there to meet them, covering for me. Tamlin's claws retracted back into his knuckles against his will while he swiped at his face in shock. And Ianthe, the little snake, slithered off into the woods, not wanting to get her robes dirty in a brawl.

I didn't bother to follow or note which direction she traveled. Instead, I kicked Tamlin in the groin while he was disoriented.

It felt a lot better than it probably should have.

As he fell to his knees, I grabbed him by the shoulders, pushed him up to the tree where Lucien had been chained moments before, and shackled Tamlin there instead. Just as he had once shackled me to him, his rules, his house.

He raised his head to look at me just before I retreated to aid Lucien with the soldiers. "I will not forget this," he hissed at me.

I didn't acknowledge that I'd heard him. I merely turned to help my friend. If he even was that.

For two against one with only a small knife as a weapon, Lucien was faring decently well. Anyone would be able to tell that he was well-trained. He met each soldier blow for blow-blocking one strike while dodging another, lunging forward in an offensive position only to switch immediately into a defensive one. However, there were several cuts and scratches on his body, and it didn't look like he had managed a single blow on either of them. But he wasn't dead.

My quick, quiet footsteps on the crackling leaves and twigs went undetected as I crept behind one of the soldiers. Just as I was preparing to stab him through a crack in his armor, Tamlin's voice broke through the clearing. "Behind you!" he warned the soldier. _Tool._

I swore loudly as he whirled around, already going in for a killing blow to the neck with his sword. A mistake. I ducked low, and while his blade was swinging where my head should have been, he had left his abdomen wide open. My knife sunk through his side, and he faltered. The soldier dropped the sword and fell to the ground while I twisted my weapon, digging in deep. I felt no remorse as his blood drenched my fingers, as his death marked my soul.

 _One more to go,_ I told myself as I stood.

But Lucien was already standing above a dead corpse, blade bloody, a huge gash in the fallen soldier's neck.

I didn't let myself feel relief. Ianthe had escaped, no doubt to get reinforcements. "We have to go," I said to Lucien, jerking my head towards the trees. "Now." I started walking north, to where I knew Rhys was, to where _home_ was, not checking to see if he'd followed me until I was a few yards into the treeline.

What I saw made me immediately want to paint it.

There Lucien was, standing mere feet from his High Lord, a person he had once called a friend. But any friendship that Tamlin had once felt was gone from his eyes. I knew this as I saw him burn with hatred and anger and something like hurt.

 _The Sting of Betrayal,_ I would call it.

After a moment, Lucien turned away, walking towards me. Towards the Night Court. Towards the mate he had chosen over Tamlin.

And he did not look back.

Even as I saw the regret shining in his silver-lined eye.

* * *

 **A/N: I know, I know, I'm a review whore but... Leave your thoughts in a review please? :)**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Rhysand**_

I was about ready to tear the world apart at the seams.

The moment I felt the bond go dark, a terror I had never known gripped my heart. If Feyre was hurt, if Feyre was _gone-_

No. I couldn't let myself even consider it. Doing so would drive me to the edge of sanity.

I slammed onto the balcony in the House of Wind, not caring about the cracks branching out like shattered glass.

Mor was already running to meet me, eyes wide. "Whoa, what's going on? Are you-"

I didn't let her finish before I spoke, my voice edged with hysteria. "Get Cassian and Azriel. _Right now._ "

She eyed me suspiciously, but went to retrieve the Illyrian warriors. I could see the questions on the tip of her tongue, but I didn't care. All that mattered was that something had happened to my mate. And I didn't know what.

Cassian came out first. "What the hell, Rhys? It's the middle of the night, you-"

He stopped, finally taking a look at my face. He saw my eyes, which were probably wide and panicked. He saw my hair, which I hadn't bothered to shield from the wind as I flew here faster than I'd ever seen myself travel. He saw my hands, which were shaking so badly I'd die if I tried to wield a blade in battle.

He came up to me and planted his palms on my shoulders. "Did something happen to Feyre?" The question was slow, cautious. As if he were scared of the answer. As if he were scared of my reaction.

" _I don't know,_ " I said, ripping away from his grip to run my hands through my hair. "The bond just - I can't feel her anymore. What if she's hurt? What if she's been captured?" I met his gaze then, some vulnerable part of me whispering, "What if she's _dead?_ "

I couldn't bear saying it, couldn't cope with the mere thought of it. If it actually happened…

"Hey," Cassian said, voice full of authority and certainty, "she is _not dead._ Do you hear me? She. Is. Not. Dead."

When I didn't reply, he sighed. "Look, your mate is one of the strongest females I've ever known. Feyre wields the power of all seven High Lords. She could burn or freeze or drown any threat that comes near her. And if that fails her, she has her fighting ability, courtesy of yours truly." He bowed with a smug grin on his face, but I could see the tightness of the gesture. "She can defend herself not only with magic, but with steel and fists. And if even that fails her, she has her wits. She is smart and cunning and quick on her feet. Feyre is a survivor. If something has happened to her, she'll make it. Or at least hold on long enough for us to save her."

I nodded, knowing all of this, knowing that she was strong and capable and _brilliant._ But that didn't stop the panic from suffocating me.

I couldn't help but feel that it was my fault. I should've pushed her to tell me what was wrong, should've demanded that she admit why she was blocking me out.

"I've already sent out scouts to the Spring Court," said the soft voice of my shadowsinger, approaching quietly. "Cassian and I can begin searching as well, once you give the order."

All I had the strength to do was nod. "Find her. Stop at _nothing_ to bring her home."

I didn't let myself think that there was nothing left of her to find. My mate was alive. If she weren't, I would cease to exist too.

The two Illyrians each put a fist over their hearts. A promise with their lives.

As they departed, I felt that all-consuming fear turn into cold anger - dark as the twilight, fierce as a sharply-honed nightmare. Because someone had done something to my mate. Someone had touched the High Lady of the Night Court.

And no force on Earth would stop me from destroying whoever was responsible.

* * *

 _ **Feyre**_

We didn't stop running until we reached the Autumn Court. A journey through this particular territory required stealth, lest our presence be noted by the sinister High Lord who ruled these lands - Lucien's father.

Only as we were nearing the harrowing mountains of the Winter Court, the sun rising in the East, did I ask Lucien, "Why?"

He knew what I meant. A sigh passed through his lips, knowing the question had been coming. Although I was sure he had been bracing himself for it the moment we left, I still didn't think he knew the answer himself. Even so, he said, "I owe a lot to Tamlin. He saved me with no expectations for payment. He gave me food and drink and shelter. In return, I swore my loyalty to him. But the Spring Court..." Lucien hesitated, searching for what to say next. "It wasn't exactly what I expected. I was anticipating a familial sort of bond that I had never experienced in the Autumn Court. I was ready for a brotherly love that my own brothers had refused to give me."

I waited for him to continue. After several moments, he remained silent. So I pushed. "What, in reality, did the Spring Court offer you?"

Lucien shook his head almost absentmindedly. "Tamlin was my closest friend, and I have no doubt in my mind that he truly cared for both me and you. But I now see his friendship for what it was - control. He always held power over me and used it despite our close ties. He didn't necessarily do it intentionally, either. He truly does not know friendship or what it means. And for that, I pity him." He stopped, directing his one-eyed gaze at me. I couldn't find it in me to look away. "You have taught me the meaning of friendship, Feyre. You could have left me with Ianthe and made your escape, magic in tow. Why didn't you?"

That was a question I could not answer. I didn't know how.

I broke his stare, continuing our trek towards the base of those mountains. "Any decent person would have done it, friends or no. I was just doing what I thought was right."

I kept walking even as I felt his eye persistently burning into the back of my head. Almost inaudibly, he said, "No, Feyre. Not just anyone would have done what you did. Not for who I was to you."

* * *

It was in a cold cave high in the mountains where Eris and his two brothers found us at the break of dawn. I had finally felt a tiny inkling of my power and unleashed fire on the three intruders. But still, the bond was dark.

It was in the middle of a frozen lake where they cornered us, ice slowly melting beneath our feet.

I stood back to back with Lucien, knives out, ready to go down fighting. The three brothers surrounded us in a wide circle, waiting for us to make our move.

"Listen to me, Feyre," Lucien said, so quietly that there was no possibility Eris or the others could hear, "I'll hold them off with my flames." In the time it took us to get down the mountain, Lucien's power had returned in full force. Mine was still mostly dormant. "You run and you don't look back. You make sure that child of yours lives."

I merely gripped my knives tighter at the sentiment. "I will not leave you. Not for my life, nor my child's." Even though I meant what I said, I felt my instincts scream in protest. Felt some inner part of me roar that I must _protect, protect, protect_.

Eris prowled closer, tired of waiting. "Our father will not be pleased to learn that his power was stolen by a mere _female._ " I growled at the tone. "However, he will be quite satisfied if we managed to end that thief. Along with our insolent little brother."

As if the words were some sort of signal, two of the brothers attacked Lucien, engaging in a fight of flame and steel.

That left me to Eris.

He smirked as I adjusted my knives, reaching for that power that used to thrum in me. I could only find a small flicker of flames.

I did not waste it. I lashed out with fire, intending to burn Eris's head right off of his arrogant body.

He ducked low, only just in time. Then, he lunged as fast as a spark igniting.

The ice was slippery under my feet as I tried to step back from his bared teeth and flashing knife. Too slippery. My feet fell out from under me, and I hit my back against the ice so hard I felt my teeth rattle in my skull.

Eris landed on top of me, knife held against my throat, fire forcing its way into my mouth and binding my limbs. Hot enough to warn of its danger but not enough to burn.

I tried to struggle, tried to throw him off of me, but I felt those flames intensify. And I knew he could end me right there with half a thought.

"That was much too easy," Eris said with a laugh, pressing the knife harder against my skin. "I would think the High Lord of the Night Court's mate would be more of a challenge than that."

I saw Lucien from the corner of my eye, still locked in battle with his two other brothers. Even from a distance, I could tell he was losing.

Options for escape, for a method of fighting back, for _anything_ raced through my head. I dismissed each of them. All would end in death. There was no way out.

And of course, because the Cauldron hated me, a crease formed between Eris's brows. Of course, he leaned closely and inhaled my scent. Of course, realization hit him as shock registered on his face.

Then, he smiled. "Look what we have here. Rhysand's mate pregnant with Rhysand's spawn. I wonder," he said as he moved the knife from my neck to my stomach. "Would it be better to kill you first, or the baby? Perhaps it would be entertaining to watch you suffer as I slowly cut the child from your womb." He laughed. "Yes, I like that option much more than a quick death. And I would enjoy breaking the news to your High Lord's face. Imagine how he would rage, hearing how his beloved mate and only child died at my hands."

 _No._ Not the baby. Not that kernel of life that was my responsibility to protect.

I couldn't help the tears that streamed down my face. I thrashed, not caring that the flames increased their intensity, because I knew he would not kill me yet. Not until I saw him cut me open and rip my child from the womb.

But it was no use. He just pinned me down with another band of fire, and I was rendered immobile. Powerless.

That was when I felt the bond awaken. As if the Cauldron granted me the small mercy of saying my final words of farewell to my mate.

 _Rhys. I love you. Our child loves you, even if it will never have the blessing of knowing you._

It was all I had time to say before the knife cut into my stomach.

I could have sworn I heard thunder boom in the distance. Not the thunder of storms, but the rumble of nightmares.

It didn't matter. He was too late.

* * *

 **A/N: Short chapter, but I _had_ to end it there. It was necessary. Leave your thoughts in the reviews please?**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Feyre**_

As Eris's blade bit into my abdomen, cutting a horizontal line, I did not feel pain. Not physically. I was too numb for that.

Emotionally, I was in turmoil.

I couldn't stop the images from flashing through my mind - images that would never come into being.

Holding a newborn baby. Listening to its first words. Watching it grow strong and capable. Seeing Cassian and Azriel and Mor and Amren care for it as fiercely as we all cared for each other.

Rhys holding my hand as I gave birth. Rhys carrying our child with all the love and tenderness of a father. Rhys teaching it how to fly. Comforting it through the pains of life. Loving it as he loved me.

Blood spilled, painting the ice around me in crimson. I thought I heard Lucien scream my name.

I didn't register any of it, not fully. I was consumed by thoughts of what I was about to lose. Not my life, but the life of a child I was supposed to have raised. A child I was supposed to have known and loved.

And as the blood drained out of me in one steady flow, the world descended into darkness.

Not the darkness of unconsciousness. The darkness of the High Lord of the Night Court, slamming into the ice a few yards from me.

I struggled to keep my eyes open, the blood I was losing taking a toll on me. Eris stood, dropping the knife, knowing that steel would do him no good against someone like Rhysand.

I didn't let myself think if Eris had succeeded in what he had planned to do.

Eris smirked. "Ah, if it isn't my old friend Rhysand. You're too late. Your child is already gone. And your mate isn't too far behind."

Even as I felt the world slipping away, I looked at Rhys. There was a fury I had never known hardening his features, loosening the tight leash he usually kept on his powers. Darkness emanated from him in waves, as potent as the rage rolling off of him with it. Rage, and something like fear - perhaps deeper than fear. It was the type of fear that left men paralyzed, the type of fear that didn't just haunt one's dreams. This was fear made reality.

But it did not make Rhys weak. It only made him stronger.

One look at me was all it took for his features to harden impossibly more, even as I saw that terror flash behind his eyes. He knew that I could very well die. He knew that our child could very well already be dead.

He did not ask questions. He did not negotiate. He just acted.

An invisible hand gripped Eris's neck, cutting off his air. Rhys approached, deathly calm, his face a mask of stone. As he got closer, Eris swiped his hand in an arc of fire, only to have his arms pinned against his body by a band of darkness. The flames holding me captive disappeared. But still, I was too injured to move. The healing that Dawn had gifted me was working too slowly.

Eris dropped to his knees, a mere foot away from me. Close enough to see Rhys slowly break every bone in his body, one by one, without so much as blinking. He released his hold on Eris's windpipe to make sure he was conscious for every moment of it.

His screams filled the early morning, bouncing off of the ice in a never-ending echo.

Finally, Rhys spoke. "I would kill a man for so much as thinking about harming my mate. I would rip him limb from limb for merely touching my child." His voice was full of rage, his eyes holes of endless, unforgiving darkness. "So imagine what will happen to you for what you just did. Imagine what the most powerful High Lord in history will do to someone who _cut a slash into his mate and tried to rip his child out from her womb_. You made her bleed. You made her suffer. Your punishment will be a thousand times worse."

Even as he said the words, bones continued cracking in Eris's body, some of them sticking out from his skin in odd angles. He didn't stop screaming, though blood flowed past his lips.

Another figure slammed into the ice on the opposite side of me. A figure with Illyrian wings and crimson siphons that gleamed in the light of the dawn.

 _Cassian_ \- healed, able to fly.

Without a word, he scooped me into his arms, blood immediately staining him. His face blanched as he took me in, noticing the huge puddle of blood where my body had been. Noticing how the blood continued to flow, already pooling in the cracks of his armor.

Azriel came to stand beside Rhys, wiping his bloody blade on his forearm, no doubt having bested the other two brothers. Lucien followed at his side, expression hesitant. After a nod from Rhys, Azriel winnowed away, Lucien and Eris in tow. Probably to the Court of Nightmares for further torturing, and perhaps questioning for Lucien.

I couldn't find it in me to be concerned for my friend. I was losing blood fast, and each moment that passed was one second closer to death for both me and my baby. If that baby was even still alive.

Suddenly, familiar hands were brushing the bloody hair from my face, studying me with a panic in his eyes so deep that I felt it run in my bones as well as his.

"You are not going to die, Feyre," Rhys said as he took me from Cassian's arms. His voice trembled. "Not you, not the baby. Not while I'm still breathing."

I almost wanted to believe him. But doubt gripped me like a vice. Regardless of his promise, I was still bleeding. The baby could still be dead. No matter how much we hoped for the opposite, the facts remained.

I learned, then, that reality was the destroyer of dreams.

He didn't waste any more time. Rhys winnowed us away, towards Velaris, the city of starlight.

But before I could see my city once again, I lost all consciousness as we became darkness and wind.

* * *

 _ **Rhysand**_

Amren and Mor were waiting for us in the townhouse.

They stood at attention as we landed in the middle of the sitting room, carrying with us the scent of blood and smoke.

"Healer, _now_ ," I barked to them, settling Feyre onto the floor. I didn't check to see which of them followed my order. If either of them followed it at all.

The only thing on my mind was my mate as I knelt beside her. There was _so much blood_. Enough blood to kill any normal human being.

Perhaps some of that blood belonged to a child who would never see the light of day.

I could feel her breaths becoming shallow. Feel her pulse starting to slow. Feel her getting weaker and weaker as that blood drained out of her.

I could not help it. A sob escaped me as I gripped her hand, willing my life into her.

"You will survive this, Feyre," I whispered hoarsely. "You are as strong and enduring and unshakable as a mountain."

All I could think about was how I wouldn't live if she died. I physically wouldn't be able to.

Mor winnowed back into the room, healer in tow and tears streaming down her cheeks. The fearsome Morrigan, reduced to a sobbing mess at the sight of her dying High Lady. Her sorrow caused me to finally spare a glance at her. Finally look at the faces of the friends around me.

They each bore pale expressions, tight lips, clenched jaws. Mor's tears seemed to be enough to fill the Sidra. Cassian's fists were clenched, his eyes shining, body still drenched with my mate's blood. Even the vicious Amren's normally red lips were whiter than they should have been.

And I realized - Feyre may have been my mate and closest confidant, but she was also a friend. A sister. A High Lady. I was not the only one who cared for her, loved her, held her close to my heart. My friends were suffering almost as much as I was.

I had been selfish not to consider it. I had to act as if everything was going to be fine, for them. I was their High Lord, the person who looked death and sorrow in the face and laughed. Feyre would live. Our child would live.

They had to.

* * *

The healer, a wrinkly old woman, ushered us from the room, saying that she had to work alone "without all this crying and coddling."

We waited in the garden behind the townhouse, Mor gripping my hand as her tears continued to flow.

"What happened?" Amren demanded, her voice edged with a hard authority that said I would not be avoiding this question.

So I told her everything, starting with how I had been flying to Hybern when I felt the bond reawaken. When I received Feyre's message that she was carrying my child. When I had winnowed to the Winter Court without hesitation, my mind screaming _she's pregnant, she's in danger, she's pregnant._

Amren was silent for a long time. Then, "You're telling me," she said, her voice low, "that my High Lady was not only in enemy territory, but she was in enemy territory _while pregnant?_ "

There was a bite in her tone that would have made anyone else tremble. I merely nodded.

"That idiot girl," she growled. "She knew about it. She knew and still decided to stay." Amren shook her head. "Foolish, unnecessary sacrifice. Nothing is worth the life of a child. _Nothing_."

"Feyre makes her own choices," was all I said.

She scoffed. "Don't tell me you would have agreed to let her stay had you known. Had she bothered to tell us."

I released Mor's hand as I took a step forward and said tersely, "I would have let her do whatever she pleased."

"You would have gotten her out of there no matter the cost," Amren countered, finger pointed at my chest accusatorily. "Don't lie to me. I knew you were going insane with your mate in the Spring Court. But both Feyre _and_ your child? You wouldn't have been able to bear it. Your instincts would have driven you beyond reason. So don't insist that you would have let your mate stay. Even she knows you wouldn't have, which is why she didn't tell you."

There was a truthfulness to her words that rattled me to the bone. Regardless of what I told myself, I genuinely did not know if I would have let Feyre choose. What I did know is that first and foremost, she was her own person. She could make her own decisions, and I had vowed to respect them. But I also knew that she was my mate, and my instincts were hard to master. Males were always compelled to defend their mates from any harm whatsoever. And their children were to be protected without question.

I had always thought that I had more control than most males. Perhaps I was wrong.

Cassian cut into the conversation, crossing his arms. "It doesn't matter now. What's done is done. At the moment, what we need to worry about is if that baby is still alive - if Feyre will die from her injuries." Although he said this placatingly, he turned to Amren. "And no matter what you say, what Feyre did was brave. Slightly stupid, yes, but brave. She stayed in that court knowing that if Tamlin found out about her pregnancy, he would likely end the child's life and possibly hers. But she remained so we could glean information. So we could better our chances in winning this war."

Mor nodded, her tears slightly drying. "I'm with Cassian on this one. Although, a warning would have been nice."

Amren still seethed, but Mor gave her a look that told her to drop the topic. Surprisingly, she obeyed.

The next few hours were agonizing.

At some point, Azriel flew in with both of Feyre's sisters from the House of Wind. Elain stood there, still pale, still a shell of what she was, but I could have sworn concern shone behind her dull eyes. And then there was Nesta.

"What have you done to my sister?" she hissed at me, stomping my way as soon as her feet touched the ground. Fire lit her eyes with a type of intensity that could burn anything within reach.

I stared at her coolly. "Nothing at all."

She pushed me with two hands to the chest, and I conceded to go back a step. Cassian and Azriel immediately advanced, ready to pull Nesta away, but I shook my head. This was my battle.

"You liar," she spat with venom. "You are her mate. You are responsible for protecting her without fail. And today, you disappointed her - all of us. You weren't there when she needed you most. My sister is in there dying _because of you_."

 _Because of you._

I froze. The truth in her words echoed within me. I should never have let Feyre stay in the Spring Court. I should have pushed her on what she was hiding from me. I should have been there to save her before it was too late.

 _Because of you._ My fault. This was my fault.

At my silence, Amren said quietly, "It would do you good to watch your mouth, girl. After all, your little sister went into a forest full of dangers in order to keep _you_ from starvation. She suffered through rain and sleet and snow and did whatever it took to keep you alive. And what did you give her in return? Nothing except anger and bitterness. You talk of protection when you never bothered to protect her yourself."

Nesta clenched her jaw, the fire in her eyes still burning, but not as brightly. Without another word, she turned and strode to the other end of the garden, spine straight and taut.

Mor sighed, putting a hand on my shoulder. "None of this is your fault, Rhys. None of it." She tried to meet my eyes, but I refused, terrified to let her see the crushing guilt and anger and darkness within them.

I didn't deign to respond. No one spoke after that, solemnly waiting for the healer to return with news of Feyre's condition along with the baby's.

After what felt like an eternity, the healer finally opened the door.

The bleak expression on her face was almost enough to make me fall to my knees.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay guys, let's just pretend that faebies develop more quickly than human children. So even though Feyre is only a few weeks into her pregnancy, her symptoms are similar to a human mother pregnant for about 10 weeks.**

 **Feel free to leave a review :)**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Rhysand**_

It was not until we stood outside Feyre's old bedroom did a giggle escape the healer. After a few seconds, it ascended into full-blown laughter. Cackles, more like.

We all exchanged a look of confusion. And one of slight fear. _This_ was the woman we had trusted with healing my mate?

Cassian obviously had no patience for it. "Why are you laughing?" he demanded.

The healer ignored him, continuing to laugh at a joke the rest of us had failed to hear. I raised my eyebrows in silent question at Mor, who had gone to get this psychopath in the first place.

She merely shrugged. "This one was the first I could find."

The healer's cackling finally began dying down, and she said while wiping the tears from her wrinkled eyes, "I wish I could show you your faces when I came out with such a grim expression on my face. It was hilarious, really. Especially yours, Rhysand. You looked so damn scared." The chuckling continued, only this time she made an effort to conceal it.

I was not amused. In any other situation perhaps I would have been - old women were always quite charming, especially the crazy ones. "So I assume there is nothing I should be scared about when you open that door?" I asked quietly, dangerously.

"That is up to you, High Lord," she said with a grin, completely disregarding my tone as she twisted the doorknob.

All thoughts of the insane healer emptied out of my head as I beheld my sleeping mate beyond door. So, so pale. But alive. Breathing.

I walked over to her almost in a daze and sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at Feyre, at her ashen skin and bandages wrapped around her abdomen, and asked a question I had been dreading to hear the answer to for hours and hours. "The baby?" I choked out, voice hoarse.

The healer offered a smile tinged with comfort and a slight edge of lunacy. "Eris obviously has no idea where the womb is. He made his incision way too high. Nothing was damaged, but she lost a lot of blood, and the cut was very deep. She'll be unconscious for at least a few more hours."

Everyone in the room released a collective breath. Even the shadows surrounding Azriel lightened. The tightness in my shoulders loosened, and for the first time in months, I felt relief. My mate was by my side, injured but alive, and my child had not been harmed in the process.

I grabbed Feyre's hand, my eyes never leaving her face. Alive, I assured myself. She was alive.

Mor, seeing my expression, clapped her hands with a bright smile on my face. "Well, since she's okay, I think we should leave Rhys alone with her." She gave everyone in the room a pointed look and raised her eyebrows. Whatever that meant.

Nesta looked ready to protest, but Cassian was already shoving her out the door. The rest of my friends reluctantly followed, but the healer remained.

"I only have one thing to say before I make my leave." She shook her finger at me in warning. " _Absolutely no sex_. Do you hear me, Rhysand? No making love, no fornicating, no frick fracking, no doing whatever it is you kids call it these days. Not until she's healed. Oh, don't give me that innocent look," she said with an eyeroll when I gave her my purest grin. "I know you two younglings just accepted your mating bond, and I know that you've probably been fantasizing about that 'reunion sex' ever since she left. Well too bad for you, there will be no penetration until she's completely healed."

I held my hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine. No sex, she needs to heal, I get it." Then I flashed a wicked smirk. "But does oral sex count?"

The corners of her lined lips tilted up slightly as she hobbled towards the door. "Didn't you hear my last sentence, Rhysand?" she said over a shoulder. "I said no _penetration_."

The laugh that escaped me was genuine. She was slightly mad, but at least she was amusing. Just before she crossed the threshold, I couldn't help myself as I said, "You never told me your name."

The healer turned back, an impish gleam in her eyes. "The name's Aelin. And I know I'm remarkably hilarious and an excellent healer, but try not to ask for me too often. I do have other things to attend to." As she said the words, I could have sworn I saw sparks dance along her fingers.

Before I could question her further, she was gone.

* * *

 _ **Feyre**_

When I finally awoke, the room was cloaked in darkness. For a moment, I could not remember where I was or the events of the past day.

Then it hit me. Eris. The knife. _The baby_.

I shot straight up in bed, only to cry out due to a sharp pain in my abdomen. Rhysand was there in an instant, cupping my cheek from where he had been sleeping beside me. "What is it? Are you alright?" he asked, breathless. He rose to his knees, wearing nothing but dark undergarments.

"The baby," I whispered, fear underlying my words. I had thought I had felt everything synonymous to fear before, but I had never felt anything like this. This was a terror only a mother could understand - the panic of losing a child.

He let out a sigh of relief. "The baby is fine," Rhys said with a small smile meant to reassure, even as I felt my heart continue to beat erratically in my chest. "Eris missed by a mile. But you lost a lot of blood. You need to rest."

With adrenaline still pumping through me, I knew sleep would be next to impossible. I could still feel Eris's sinister smile, still feel the steel meant to destroy both me and my child. So I waved Rhys off, saying, "Dawn's magic will heal me by tomorrow. I don't need rest. But I think we need to have a talk." I gave him a meaningful look.

Rhys held my gaze, scanning me to confirm that I was truly alright, and sighed. "A talk as my High Lady?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrows. "Or as my mate?" I could feel the hidden question beneath his words. _A talk of war or a talk of the secret you kept from me?_

It seemed like the only choices I made these days were that of war.

"High Lady first," I said after a moment of hesitation. "Then mate."

Rhys nodded. "Report what you discovered in the Spring Court. Numbers, movements, weaknesses, anything about Hybern." His sentence was short and to the point, his voice possessing the stone of a ruler. A king addressing his queen.

The next few minutes were loaded with information, everything I had learned from my visits to Tamin's office, eavesdropping, and various meetings. Rhys silently absorbed the information, no doubt to fill Cassian in on it later.

He twisted his head slightly to the side when I was finished. "So," Rhys said, tone light, "you're pregnant."

The tension in the room was palpable, despite his attempt at nonchalance.

I nodded slowly. "Yes, I thought we established that." I examined him closely, trying to see what he was feeling, but his face was a mask of stone and betrayed no emotion. When my physical appraisal failed, I tried looking into his mind, but was only met with a hard wall of adamant. Rhys was closed off. Distant. Untouchable.

He seemed to choose his next words carefully. "And why didn't you tell me?" His voice finally revealed some of the emotion I had been looking for, but not what I had been expecting. I had thought he would be angry, furious even. But all I could hear was an emotion some would call hurt. A hurt that ran so deep it bordered on betrayal. And I was struck by the realization that although I had anticipated anger, I had never considered this. Had never considered what my deception would mean to him. His mate, the person he trusted most in the world, did not tell him she was pregnant. Did not trust him enough to let him know that she was carrying his child.

"Rhys," I said softly, reaching out to lace our fingers together, "I trust you with my life. And I trust you to make the right decisions. But can you honestly say that you would have let me stay in the Spring Court had I told you?"

It was the wrong thing to say. I could practically feel his vulnerability morphing into the anger I had been expecting.

"And if you were in my position, Feyre," he almost growled, his grip on my fingers tightening, "could you honestly say that you would have been okay with me hiding something like this from you? That you would not have been angry had I outright _lied_ to you?"

I gritted my teeth against the truth in his words, my own irritation igniting. I knew that if our roles were switched, I would have been furious. I knew that his anger and hurt were justified. But I still stood by my decision.

"You would have done the same," I hissed back, voice hardening. "You would have sacrificed everything you had to make sure we won this war - even my trust, if it meant protecting me. I hid this from you because we _needed_ a spy in the Spring Court. The information I stole is the only leverage we have right now over Hybern. War is full of sacrifices, Rhys. You of all people would understand that. I merely did what was necessary." I met his dark gaze unflinchingly then, communicating with him mind to mind. _And I do not regret it_.

He said nothing, his eyes devoid of the usual stars. When he spoke again, his voice was choked, all of the ire drained out of him. "I'm sorry. I just - Feyre, when that bond went dark, I went out of my mind. I didn't know what happened to you. I thought you were-" Rhys cut off, unable to even finish the thought. But I knew what he meant. _I thought you were dead_. "And then, when I felt it reawaken, I was so relieved, because it was finally an assurance that you weren't gone."

Rhys shook his head, expression desolate. "I've never felt relief crumble so quickly. Because when you spoke down the bond, Feyre, when you told me that you loved me like it was the last time you'd ever say it, when you just as well told me that the child you were carrying would die…" A tear slipped down his cheek, and I could do nothing but watch and listen as more followed. "I need you to understand that _I don't live if you die_. Yes, I know that you can make your own decisions, and I know that war is full of the hardest ones. But you don't have to make them alone. Because _I'm_ _here_."

The emotion in his words struck me to the core, echoing within me as I realized that Rhys and I had the same fatal flaw. Rhys would willingly throw his life away with a smile in return for my safety, for Cassian's or Azriel's or Mor's or Amren's. He took self-sacrifice to the extreme of self-destruction.

And it terrified me, just as my own self-sacrifice terrified him.

Gently taking his face in my hands, I kissed away his tears one by one, just as he had done for me. Just as he had done for that girl sitting on a dirty floor in a jail cell hundreds of feet below ground, who thought that hope was gone, who thought that she had to fight this battle alone.

Rhys had probably thought the same thing, once. Had probably thought it when he sealed away his friends in Velaris, when he had sacrificed everything he was to keep the City of Starlight and everyone in it safe.

"From now on," I said, leaning up so our foreheads touched, "we don't put our lives at risk before consulting the other first. We don't assume that our souls are worth less than others, are valued so little that we can just throw them away. So you don't pull the same shit that you did with Amarantha, and I don't pull the same shit that I did in the Spring Court. Okay?"

He nodded, closing his eyes, inhaling deeply. "Okay."

And for the first time in months, I fell asleep in the arms of my mate, wrapped in the warm cocoon of his wings. I knew that the next day would mark the beginning of our plans to strike back at Hybern, filled with strategies and negotiations. But even with war on the tip of the horizon, I found that I was content where I was - in the darkness with Rhys by my side and a child that I would fight tooth and nail for to bring into this world.

* * *

 **A/N: So sorry it took so long to update! I was on vacation and the wifi at the hotel was literally nonexistent.**

 **But anyway, this was kind of a filler chapter. Things will start picking up again in the next one. And by the way, what gender would you like the baby to be? Any name suggestions?**


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